Remember Me
by MHS0501
Summary: Every day, Anna dreads the many things she'll eventually forget, but that doesn't mean Kristoff will let her. This is a Kristanna Oneshot. WARNING: Mentions of overdose and Alzheimer's in this story.


She sat on the porch, copper blonde hair glimmering in the fragile circles of light created by the thousands of leafy shadows from the aspir tree across the lawn. Her eyes were trained on the street, cracked grey asphalt baking under the mid June sun. From where he stood in the doorway, his own eyes followed her breaths, timid and small. Kristoff couldn't move himself despite the fact that she had been still for the past half hour. Waiting, eyes trained on the quiet neighborhood street, for something she hadn't elaborated on, and would most likely forget. Neither of them broke their silence, the distant rustle of breeze and chirping of wrens and sparrows providing a falsely calming atmosphere. He didn't know if Anna could hear their song, but he knew he couldn't let it distract him from what he'd always done: watched over her.

Her periods of silence were commonplace and had been for months. Why that was, he'd attempted to whittle down to, but never asked. They'd spoken earlier that morning, over chocolate chip pancakes and coffee with six sugars, her usual favorite. He'd sat next to her instead of across, afraid of her possibly spilling something or falling from the chair. They'd talked about the weather, and about how Elsa would be visiting, though mostly it had been Kristoff reminding her of their daily routine. She had been nodding and slowly cutting into her pancakes, and Kristoff made sure to repeat himself even though he knew there was little point.

On days like this, they would've spent in the garden down the street, bold and vibrant flowers of all colors and sizes adorning the pathways. Kristoff would hold her hand, and they would walk along the stepping stones and Anna would pull him along, pointing wildly at every fresh bud and every fragrant blossom. He would marvel at the beauty he'd never fully appreciated, his own eyes focused on the rays of his fiery haired sunshine. On days like today, they would've worked on the patio in the shade, planting roses and crocuses that she'd cherished so much. And when the sun went down and the stars twinkled in the sky, he would sit beside her on the bench, calloused fingers turning the pages as his wife played her piano.

But that had all changed six months ago, when he'd taken her to the only hospital in Arendelle after she'd dropped a pot and scalded herself. He hadn't even needed to notify Elsa of the incident as she'd been over for dinner that same night. Both of them weren't very worried about Anna. She'd burned herself and cried under the bag of frozen peas countless times outside of their marriage and far back into childhood. But when she wasn't discharged after two hours, both began to nervously watch the clock until Kristoff built up the nerve to ask the receptionist why she hadn't been discharged with a clean bill of health. It was only then that the doctor had called him to see his wife and told Elsa to join them.

In the privacy of the hallway, he'd explained she had been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's. Both of their pulses raced and it became obvious that his sister in law was struggling to compose herself. Kristoff managed to keep himself calm through his explanations and fetched a nearby box of tissues for Elsa. He'd listened as he'd explained the symptoms his wife would start experiencing and and when to expect them. What to do in the case of her forgetfulness, what to say to her and ways of keeping her memories. There had been no mention of her life expectancy, but the doctor failed to mention it simply because it was obvious neither of them could handle any more saddening news. He later found out there was no prospect for her survival, and slowly but surely, they would lose each other. There was also no prospect of time for her decaying mental state, but Kristoff was very grateful about that. He didn't want to fear the day she would forget him. He knew despite whatever unorthodox treatment the doctor recommended there was no changing what Anna would become and the last thing he wanted to do was spend the rest of his time with her moping around. He wanted to try and keep their world normal for as long as he could. It had proven to be much more difficult than he'd ever imagined.

Her job at the town Elementary school was reduced to permanent health leave. She'd cried with her students, not telling them the true reason for her sudden departure. In an environment with children, there was no telling what damage she could cause. She'd ridden home with him in silence, and locked herself in the bathroom for the entire night. That was the first time Kristoff had been forced to wait for her for her own safety.

It soon became obvious is the silver snow melted away to the spring that Anna couldn't be left alone without care and someone to remind her of the task at hand. Elsa had met with Kristoff previously and agreed to stay with her younger sister on the days where he was needed at his parents foster home and at his job at the air conditioning store despite her demanding position on the town council. Both his boss and his parents absolved him of needing to leave the house in his wife's condition, but Kristoff knew he really had no other choice. They needed to money to keep the home they'd bought standing, and paid leave wasn't always enough to ensure that. Besides, in the hum of the electric cooling units, it was easy to forget the painful silence that plagued his home and his beloved.

In the following months, a dreary shadow seemed to arch over his entire world. The red walls of the living room seemed duller. The kitchen no longer smelled strongly of chocolate or cakes. The piano gathered dust in the corner, lid shut and hiding the once lively white keys. Slowly, music stopped wafting through the hallways. Laughter and giggles became a notion of a golden past. And as the doctor had said, Anna began to forget.

At first, it was simple things- the time of day, the names of old friends, the amount of flour for her French petits. Both Kristoff and Elsa readily reminded her and guided her through her darkening world. But as the days became weeks, her short term memory ceased altogether, and the severity of her problems became more and more apparent. She began to stop mid-sentence, repeat herself despite what she'd already said, and wander the halls of the house in whatever she'd worn the previous day. The reality of the changes in his world began to close in on him, and for a time Kristoff couldn't bring himself to sleep or eat. He couldn't tear his eyes from his dear wife as she slowly wasted away. Had Elsa not been the first to find them and the house in such a state there was no doubt Anna would've been truly taken away from him.

He could hear her rapping on the door, her small, pale fist jiggling the golden handle and calling his name from the outside. Had he locked the door, things could've only escalated from bad to worse. He'd been sitting in the middle of the entryway, legs scrunched to his chest, trying to forget the song Anna had played the night she'd forgotten to hold the pot of spaghetti with mits. But all he could do was hum the beautiful, nameless hymn over and over and over.

" _What are you doing?!_ " He'd barely heard her gasp as she kicked the front door shut with her heel, running over and grabbing hold of him with both cold hands.

He didn't respond, his voice cracking as Elsa immediately looked at him and blinked, jaw springing open. A white bottle was clutched in his hands, cap nowhere to be seen and contents empty. " _Kristoff,_ " She said in barely a whisper. " _What did you do?_ "

The blonde focused on his sister in law, dull brown eyes giving her all the answers she needed. He'd wanted to forget. He wanted to forget all of it. Her singing, her smile, the headstrong glares she gave him with every petty argument. He wanted to forget what she was, what their life had been. Kristoff couldn't bear to recall how they'd first met, her thin pink hoodie drenched in snow as she'd begged him for a ride in his pickup truck to her sisters in mid December. It was a slight comfort that Anna would forget it. She would forget him even though she'd promised to him she wouldn't.

There was no stopping what she had, and Kristoff hadn't seen the point to making it easier when the truth was all too obvious. There was no telling what would've happened if he'd been able to get more of his wife's antidepressants out of the cabinet in their bathroom.

It had taken him a long time to realize it, but he knew that forgetting what they'd had would've left him or Anna off no better than before. There had to be someone to keep their world turning with time. There wasn't anything he could do to stop what was making Anna forget, but that didn't mean he could let her lose any faster. He couldn't lose her. She needed him, and he needed her. It was as simple as that.

And so he'd taken to braiding her strawberry blonde locks into two plaits. He'd learned to make the pancakes and coffee the way she liked it. He learned to guide her, hand in his, along the stepping stones of the flower garden. He learned to make what was left of his shattered life work, all the while his wife continued to question the names of her favorite roses and blissfully grin at his attempts to tell her what he could only guess was correct, his ignorance not hurting her in any way. She even still wanted to try and play the piano again, like Kristoff had said she used to.

But now, she was quiet and unresponsive once again. Again, she was reduced to sitting on the porch, in the shade of the aspir, looking at the road, and again, Kristoff watched her carefully, unsure if there was really anything to say to her or any reason to trouble her with who someone was or where they were or why the birds sang on a day like today. He'd come to expect these sorts of episodes, but even in her current state Anna always had some form of light to her demeanor. She was always sunny somewhere, regardless of her forgetfulness and his depression.

With a sigh, he pushed himself off the white frame of the door, and sat down next to her on the painted wooden planks. She didn't react to his sudden presence, and only continued to stare into the world outside her front yard. Unable to keep the silence any longer, Kristoff broke it.

"What's wrong Anna?" He turned to look at his wife, her statue-like manner leaving him unable to ignore her episode.

It took a moment for her to respond, the first time she'd done so to one prompting in months. "What's wrong?" She repeated. Kristoff couldn't keep the smallest of sad smiles from his face.

"You've been quiet all morning and now you're just," He cast a glance at the lush green grass. "Sitting out here, not moving. You were doing so well before."

"Nothing's wrong," She paused, her eyes suddenly scrunched tight, as if the sun blinded her from her next words. "Nothing Kristoff."

Inside he felt his heart pounding, the fear that she would forget his name still buried deep in his subconscious. Her eyes popped open and looked to him for validation. But he kept a straight face and nodded that she got his name right, and an instantaneous joy bloomed in her rosy, freckled cheeks.

"Good." She nodded and for a moment she froze, the gears in her head turning slowly until finally her eyes brimmed with confidence again. "Good." She repeated.

After a moment passed Anna suddenly came to life once more. Her small hand shot out and held his wrist, tightly at first, but then relaxing again. Kristoff narrowed his gaze at her sudden movement. He had been about to get up and call Elsa to see where she was. Whether Anna somehow remembered this he didn't know, but regardless, he remained where he was, unable to leave Anna when she wanted him there. She'd done that before, when they'd gone to the garden and she'd tugged him along with enough strength and interest to make the block shine with optimism.

And yet, despite keeping him grounded, her face remained contorted in a painfully familiar manner whenever she couldn't remember something. He'd come to recognize it, and it tore him up inside to see such an innocent gesture and complete confusion coming from his princess, his world.

Then, finally, after nearly a full minute and right before she was about to let go, the blue of her eyes brightened with recollection, pupils shimmering as she looked between her own hand and that of her husband's. She often asked him what the ring on their fourth fingers meant. She tilted her chin towards Kristoff, and blinked, her lips parting.

"Don't go." Her voice was timid and soft like the grip she held his wrist in. Eyes full of fear, she took a breath. "I don't want you to go."

"Anna," Kristoff laughed weakly. "Why would I go anywhere?"

"Don't go," She repeated. "Please," She shook her head and pulled him closer. "What if I forget you?"

For a moment he saw a child, a young little girl who would hold tight to her father's arm and beg him not to leave her despite there being no other choice. A child wouldn't understand the logic of going away- in their mind there wasn't a reason to go. All he could think of was the moment the doctor had told him Anna would forget him one day, and the last thing he'd wanted to do even in his darkest moments was ever admit it could've been true. She didn't want to forget him, and the fear that she would was so well reflected Kristoff could even see himself in those candy blue eyes that had stared into him every day, and given him a love that he never would've dreamed of being lucky enough to have.

He reached her bone thin wrist and squeezed. "You won't forget me, Anna. I promise."

Her other hand reached over, holding Kristoff tighter like a lone life preserver in an endless blue ocean. She shook her head again. "You don't know that. What if you leave and I never see you again?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Anna. You'll remember."

"No," She almost sobbed. "No, I won't."

Kristoff pulled her closer. "Yes, you will. I promise. I promise because even if you forget I'll still be here to remind you. No matter who or what you can't remember, I'm staying with you. And even when I'm gone, I'll always be back. Do you know why?"

A moment passed and Anna shook her head. "Why would you come back?"

"Because I helped you back when we first met. I promised I'd always be there for you in sickness and in health the day I married you. I'm never leaving you for as long as I live." His other hand brushed her cheek. "And as long as I'm here, you'll never forget Elsa, your music," He kissed her forehead. "And especially me."

Wrapping her in his strong arms, he held his wife close. No matter what she couldn't recall, no matter how many times she repeated herself, he wouldn't let her forget what really mattered. He had a job to do for Anna, and that was to keep make her remember who he was, the grumpy blonde who'd driven through a blizzard to get her where she needed in her darkest hour like a knight in flannel and fleece armor.

"Stay with me?" She whispered from his shoulder. He kissed her again. There was no reason to repeat the question. That was all the answer Anna needed to get.


End file.
